100 Theme Challenge
by Culture Shock in Berlin
Summary: The 100 theme challenge, Hetalia style. Characters and the level of maturity vary per chapter. Requests on scenarios, couples, and characters are taken. 001. Introduction; Death was dancing with his people, and no matter what he did, he couldn't stop it.


**Introduction**

Spinning, he was spinning. Twirling like a figure in a music box, around and around until all the lights and images around him no longer held any physical properties. Everything simply existed in a ball of swirling colors, like an ice cream with a rich topping, doomed to melt. For now, though, preordained fate was ignored, the focus mainly on savoring the flavor while it lasted. Faster and faster he spun, the colors getting brighter, the taste growing sweeter, until finally...

Zest attacked his senses, causing his mouth to pucker.

The spinning had stopped.

The lights were diminished.

And he fell to the ground.

Limbs were splayed with flowing silk cloth encasing the porcelain flesh, while ash-tinted hair surrounded his face like a nimbus, reflecting the growing one inside the hard cranium. There should be a breeze, he thought, a rough, mighty wind to blow away all the black snow that had collected on the ground, tainting his fertile soils with the pollution of sǐwáng. It reeked of sulfur and smoke, smog caressing the air far above him, dancing with clear skies as if they were old friends. But the moon was the third wheel, gallivanting occasionally only to be turned down again, hidden beneath the mess of an intangible friendship that always slipped through your fingers when you tried to grasp it.

Smog and smoke and air harmonized together.

Now he no longer wanted to see them, see sǐwáng's friends reuniting, see the specks fall from the sky, feel them ghost his skin, smell the stench of burning flesh in the air. A hand raised, silk fabric drooping onto his face as the arm covered his chocolate eyes. Nails dug into dirt, a thin red line forming where it met flesh beneath the keratin. A horsed whimper breached him, invading his thoughts, his vocal cords, until finally it was pushed away through chapped lips, sent to join the masquerade in the sky, screams and sirens having already assembled to find their dance partners before the final crescendo.

Another sob sent off, but this time tears were seduced to accompany it, to be released from the prison of chocolate orbs and fall freely down his face. The soft material still covering his face added further protection against the intruder on pride, the last thing he had left. Pink stained teeth bit down on his lip, feeling the poorly blocked senses attack his control, and now he could no longer hold it back.

Removing his arm, he turned over onto his knees, emptying the little contents of his stomach to the soil, further mucking it up as a sharp cry called out into the night and the tears fell. Every person kissed by Sǐwáng, he could feel, every person spared and left in agony, he could feel, every person filled with rage and sorrow and torment, he could feel. Sǐwáng and questions, Sǐwáng and questions, Sǐwáng and questions, never any answers...

He just wanted a solution, an end, something that would make everything _stop_.

But this was just the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>End Notes:<strong> I hope you enjoyed prompt 001. Introduction! As I'm sure many of you have figured out, this is China, and Sǐwáng is the_pīnyīn_ for death.

Just to get this little detail out of the way, even if my ideas are 'crack' I write them out seriously, so if you're someone who appreciates proper grammar, spelling, and punctuation, and are a Hetalia fan, hopefully you'll like these prompts. They'll vary in size considerably from one another, and the characters will be mixed up too since I practically love them all. 3

Anyway, I take requests since this is all good practice, and a good way for me to get a feel for writing Hetalia; this is my first attempt at it. And now I'm just rambling...hope you enjoyed. Favorites are nice and reviews are even better. ;)


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